This week my psi, Holland, told me about the Highly Sensitive Persons (HSP). He said it was not a diagnostic in itself but that it could explain why I feel so exhausted after spending some time around people. The HSPs are over stimulated and are very sensitive to noises, lights, confusion, caffeine, people, terror movies and a list of other things. There is a site about the issue and a researcher, Elaine Aron, a HSP herself, that has been studying and talking about it. I was glad he was finally assertive about something on my condition except that I have already brought this subject of HSP in one session and he didn’t give me any credit, he ignore it. Is my condition so complex and out of the box that it makes it impossible to explain it exactly and clearly by anyone or I didn’t find the right doctor yet? I hope I can find the answer. Anyway, I was happy, I bought the book and I can’t wait to start reading it.

Today I had to write because I can’t stop my mind. It gained a life of it’s own. The thoughts are racing at a cosmic speed. I need to calm down and get back in touch with the reality. It feels like I’m floating above all things, not in a visually way. It’s late but it’s impossible to go to bed. A movie it’s not an option, I can’t concentrated and a book the same. Meditation is working but not tonight. I’ve decided to write, take a shot to see how it goes. It’s helping but it’s the music that is doing the magic. I’m listening to Rodrigo Leão, Forests Underwater. It is divine. It relaxes me, it cleans me, it calms me down, it grounds me, it breaks my voracious mind. It’s fine art made with heart, soul and so much talent.

I can’t do anything. Everything seams so difficult and has so many obstacles and I spend my days doing almost nothing. It kills me softly as Roberta Flack would say.

Before I have the mental health problem I worked in the non profit sector for environment organisations and I loved it! I was passionate about it. Now I can’t have a proper job, I’m too tired, too dum and too emotionally unstable. No one can imagine how bad this is, it destroys me. My fire, my strength, my self-confidence, my optimism, all have come down to ZERO. I’m not sure what am I still doing here. What is my purpose? Is this a life?

I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no intention in the things that happens in our lives. There isn’t any purpose, any lesson or any superior reason for me/people having a mental condition. It’s all random. This means that I’m loosing faith in the Universe and that I’m practically an orphan of divine protection which leaves pretty much alone and struggling not to lose all the hope. Jose Saramago, a remarkable portuguese writer, has demonstrated the lack of good will and faith of all gods in his novel Son of Caim, and I agree with him. But don’t take me wrong, I respect religious people and I even envy them with their faith. They have something to hold on to.

In nature I find the sacred, the divine. It’s my sanctuary. It gives me a priceless peace of mind and fulfilled heart.

I asked my psi many times to help me understand what job can I handle with my limitations. The answers were from silence, to “I can’t help you with that”, to “write articles for environmental magazines” (a little better), to “what about that photographic project with horses you told me about”. I said that that’s a hobby not something with purpose..besides, I’m alone most of the time so I need something to engage with people or I’m going crazy. Other persons, friends, suggested me to put my on business, but how am I going to do that when I feel so tired all the time?

Anyway, this post was not suppose to be about work but about me freaking out with the things I can’t do here at my house. The tasks are things like: painting doors and windows, painting outside walls, painting the main door, working on my photographies, printing some photographies, etc. When I’m away I think of so many things I want to do and even feel content about it. When I’m here it’s so hard to get anything done. For any task I think of doing it’s all very complicated and huge, or it’s worthless, or I think I won’t be able to finish it, or I feel tired, or I feel anxious and blocked, or it’s a fog in the brain that comes up, or there something stoping me and I just don’t do it. It seams that I have someone inside that permanently seeks self-sabotaging and self-destruction. Can this be?

Is there any more people feeling like this ? How do you manage it? How do you handle the obstacles and finish the task? Does any one have improved over time?

I’m a mess today. Monday night was a nightmare, a horror movie, a torment. I was convinced that Jakarta didn’t call me over the weekend because she got involved with one of the girls that she was with. Imagining this brought to the surface the fear of abandonment and the pain that I felt 6 years ago when she got married with a girl putting our relationship abruptly to an end. I was devastated and it took me more than one year to put myself together again. Monday was the night of hell revisited. During that long hours I though to myself that I wouldn’t make it, I couldn’t handle going through this again. In the morning I talked to her and find out that she had been sick Sunday and Monday. This calm me down but I could not get rid of the bad impression from by body and I knew that it didn’t happen but that it could happen. I couldn’t take the risk, the price is to high, I don’t won’t to pay for it. So I was in a hurry to finish everything with Jacarta and get rid of the anxiety associated with her not caring enough for me. I know that I can’t talk with her about this kind of thing because she will feel that I was trying to make her feel guilty which she can’t stand. She responds to this aggressively, with violence and she says the most horrible things and hurtful things. But that’s what I did, I didn’t think right. I told her that I was said because she didn’t called, that I expect from her another thing specially after being there for her in a critical moment. Also, I said that we should have thought better before we got involved, and that was it, an explosion of anger and violence. She treat me bad, she was mean. Well after the phone call was over I felt relieved and I thought I can’t do this to myself, I can’t tolerate this, I am done with Jacarta from today. And a sense of peace invaded my head, soul and body. Today this is changed, I miss her, it seams like my life is poor and uninteresting without her. I whish that she calls and I’m thinking about what should I say if I call her. How can this be! How can I want someone that hurts me so bad. Who in me still thinks of Jacarta with love despite her telling me to go fuck myself, I don’t want to ear from you again, I don’t care. Even though she knows that this is the worst thing in the world she can tell me. It just rips me apart. I have an irrational reaction as my life is at risk. I guess it’s a panic attack. It hurt so much you don’t want to know.

There are many good and amazing things about Jacarta. She brings emotion, dignity, colour, joy, pleasure, aventure, warm, to my/any life. She is very tempting and seductive but she is a dangerous and powerful person that can brings someone/anyone down. When I talk about her a friend of mine, Canada, says I’m describing a drug.

Yesterday, I promised myself that I’d would be myself a little more Jacarta and that I’d cultivate my personal interests so I don’t need her or anyone to fill the emptiness.

I’ll be writing about my interests here and write a manifests of intentions about life. I’ve started already in the post Projectos 1.0 and I will develop it furthermore.

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